


Jackson, Mississippi

by ReticentResolve



Category: O Brother Where Art Thou? (2000), Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: But before RDR1, Crimes & Criminals, Partners in Crime, Pre-Canon, takes place after RDR2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22826272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReticentResolve/pseuds/ReticentResolve
Summary: Big spoilers for Red Dead Redemption 2 and the epilogue. Don't read further than this to avoid.He wasn't sure exactly how he'd wound up in Mississipi. Well, he knew how. Micah were gone, and he had to find some other place to just... come up with a plan in. Word likely hadn't reached this far yet, surely he'd be able to lie low for a while.Or, Dutch flees to Mississippi in 1910 and meets a young boy who reminds him a bit too much of himself.
Kudos: 2





	Jackson, Mississippi

Dutch had been in Mississippi for just about 2 months as of today. Got himself a room at a hotel in Jackson, and a stall in the stable for The Count.

He hadn't come here with any actual plan, just a goal. To find some money and get himself a way down to Mexico. Get himself away from The Pinkertons. 

Surely they'd follow him here soon enough. But he'd be gone long before they ever got here. Was working on hustling a fat cat news reporter who was said to be keeping some major valuables hidden in a safe somewhere.

Suddenly, his eye catches just a bit further down the street, to where a boy was standing, rocking just a bit on his feet with a small smile on his lips, speaking to a couple.

The woman was saying something to the man, who was looking more than a little bit annoyed.

Dutch recognized the look on the boys face. The look of someone who's hoax was going just according to plan. He took a hand out of one of his pants pockets to itch at his nose just a bit before the man huffs and hands the kid a bill. 

The kid says something that Dutch can't quite hear, and reaches back into his pocket only to be stopped by the woman, who ruffles his hair and continues on, locking arms with her man.

The moment they're far enough away they won't hear him, the boy mutters something and takes an old comb out of his pocket and sweeps his hair back again, turning away from Dutch.

Dutch walks forward, placing a firm hand on the boys shoulder. "That was some act you put on there, boy."

The kid flinches at first, but when he turns, his face is calm. "Oh, nossir. No act. Just trying to find my way back to Canton."

That gets a small chuckle from Dutch, who leans on a nearby hitching post. "And what're you doin' up here then when you're supposed to be in Canton?"

The boy looks almost like he's considering the man in front of him for a moment, before responding. Face twisting up. "My Pa sent me here with my Uncle. Filthy drunk that he is, he left for the bar the night we got here and next thing I know I'm waking up in alone in that dingy hotel."

"You don't say." Dutch starts walking forward. The boy follows him tentatively. "How old're you, kid?"

"Just turnt 15 a few months ago, mister." The boy answers from where he walked beside him, flippantly messing with a frayed sleeve.

Dutch hums, turning into a much smaller street that more closely resembled an alleyway. Still the boy followed directly at his side, looking completely unconcerned. "I'll tell you what." Dutch stops moving and turns to the boy, purposefully taking a few steps to push him closer to the wall behind him. "I can see through all your bluster kid, you haven't spoken a lick of truth in this whole conversation."

The boy pauses to glance up at Dutch before shrugging. "I ain't got no purpose in lying about my age, mister."

"You know what I'm talking about." Dutch replaces his hand on the boy's shoulder, who finally starts glancing about a bit nervously. "You played that nice couple out there like a fiddle."

"With all due respect sir, now you're just talking nonsense." The boy takes as large a step back as he can with the wall so close to his back and holds his arms out. "Do I really look like a con-man to you?"

"Absolutely not." Wasn't a lie. The boy was half grown and dressed in clothes that likely were once quality enough, but were now stained and dusted with the evidence of days on the street. His face was spattered here and there with dirt, and his hair was slicked back with it's own grease. "You look like an accomplice."

The boy looks almost offended and goes to say something, only to be cut off.

"And as it would have it, I just so happen to be in the market for one." Dutch finishes with a smirk on his face as the confused look on the boy's face unravels into one of realization. "You interested?"

"Well, depends on what you got planned, mister."

"Dutch." The man corrects, holding a hand out to the boy. No harm in telling him his first name, he was going to be gone soon enough anyway.

The boy takes it, trying his best to shake firmly with his lanky hand. "Everett."

"Now Everett, I'm sure you heard of the Greenes with how long you been around here." 

"Just a week, mister Dutch. I weren't lying bout bein from Canton." The boy says in an almost defensive tone. "But yeah, I heard of 'em. One's a writer for them newpapers."

"Indeed he is." Dutch answers, leaning against the wall next to the boy and taking two cigarettes from his pocket, striking a match on his coat zipper and lighting one up before passing the other and the match to the boy. He takes it with a big grin. "And I. Have an in with the head of servants for their estate. He's ready to let someone in during the dinner party they're having tomorrow."

To the side, the boy breaths a little too deeply off of his cigarette, and starts coughing. Dutch huffs in amusement. "Now I don't know about you, but I don't think I really pass as a servant boy. You on the other hand..."

"And you're just gonna... trust me with that?" Everett asks disbelievingly. "How would you know whether or not I'm just gonna run off with it?"

Dutch rolls his shoulders a bit before tugging up his coat a bit to make sure his gun holster is very clearly visible. He'd never shoot a child, but Everett didn't need to know that. "You know, I got experience bringing in thieves, boy."

The boy takes another few steps away, pacing around Dutch slowly, who turns to face him as he goes. "So it's all on me then? If that's gonna be the case, Mr. Dutch I'm gonna have to insist I get 70%."

The man raises a brow in response. "Now who ever said that, son? I'll be there just as well as you'll be. Wooing those fine folk. And you'll get your share."

"Then 50%."

"20%."

"45%"

At this, Dutch rolls his eyes. This back and forth was starting to get on his nerves. "Now, there seems to be a miscommunication here, boy. Who is the one who found this intel?"

"You, mister." Everett answers, faux respect in his voice.

"And who is the one who is going to be picking that lock?"

Everett rolls his eyes as well. "That'd be you, mister."

"And the one who'll be selling those there valuables to a fence?"

"I'm guessing that'd be you, mister." The boy looked more than a bit annoyed himself at this point. Dutch couldn't help but feel a bit of sadistic satisfaction at his upset.

"And so since I'm going to be doing 3 of the 4 tasks, I'm going to give you 25%." He offers. "And be sure you remember that I am being more than generous in that. There's many a folk that'd shoot you dead the moment you came outta there with them valuables."

"Fine." Everett crosses his arms and frowns. "How you plannin' on getting in there, mister?"

"Oh, don't you worry my boy. I have a plan. You see, I am Aiden O'Malley, oil tycoon visiting from out west and looking to get my name in some of them papers. Gonna drop on into their little party and introduce myself."

"And you." He loops an arm around Everett's shoulder, who tries to shrug him off, but fails. "Are the new servant boy who's gonna 'get lost' upstairs and start getting into places he really aught not be. Gonna find that safe. You know how to lockpick, boy?"

"I..." Everett scratches the back of his head a bit sheepishly. "Never really had the chance to practice it much."

Dutch sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose and thinking for a long moment. A moment where Everett just stared up at the man, looking just a bit concerned that he had ruined his chances. "I'll tell you what. I'll excuse myself 20 minutes after my impromptu entry. Ask for the restroom. You find the safe by then, we'll meet back up and you shall kindly show me to the 'lavatories'."

Everett smiles. "Alright."

"You in, kid?"

The boy shrugs, trying to act flippant even though his excitement is clearly shining through. "Sure. Ain't got no other plans."

* * *

"There you are." Dutch says, walking up to where Everett was kneeling outside of the gates to the mansion that stood tall on the outskirts of Jackson. "Get to the back of the house. You're gonna meet a Mr. Coolidge. You tell him you come with the regards of Aiden O'Malley. He's gonna give you a change of clothes. And then you go and get yourself 'lost' upstairs."

"Then you're gonna be coming out in 20 minutes from the main door to the dining room, right?" 

"Right." Dutch answers, smile on his face. "You do this right, boy and there might be a future between us."

Everett shrugs, and starts to go around the building. Dutch turns to the front door, straightens his bowtie and pushes open the double doors. Several confused faces turned to look at him.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" He greets, pausing to dip his hat at the missus of the house before turning to the Mr. Greene, a rotund man with a ridiculous mustache who was looking thoroughly insulted at this mysterious man who had just wandered off of the streets into his home. "This is a magnificent home you have here, Mr. Greene."

Mr. Greene moves to say something, but Dutch just continues spinning his web. "I'm Aiden O'Malley. Come down from Louisiana, where I just came into a plot a land overflowing with a bounty o' oils."

"Came through on my way to New Hanover. Heard you were the one to talk to about getting my name into one of them papers." He offers his hand, which Mr. Greene shakes a bit more enthusiastically than he had been before. "You are that Mr. Greene, ain't ya?"

The man responds immediately, abruptly on board with this stranger in his home. The rest of the attendants return to their conversations, They were making this too easy.

* * *

"There you are." Everett says from the side of the door, now dressed in a ridiculously uptight dress shirt and vest, sarcastic smirk on his lips. He pauses to wipe it before continuing just a bit louder. "If you want to follow me, Mr. O'Malley, I can show ya to the restroom."

"Ah, thank you son." Dutch responds. He liked this kid. Had an attitude to him. Almost reminded him of a young John. Back when the boy wasn't so flakey. Once they turn the corner, he leans over to whisper to the boy as they continue walking. "You found it?"

"That I did." Everett answers. Walked confidently over to the stairs that were halfway through the hall. "This here's gonna lead us to the Mr. Greene's personal quarters. There's a hatch for the attic in his closet. Big 'ol safe up there."

As they go up the stairs, Dutch takes note that the boy's jingling pockets. "Anything else of note?"

The boy glances back to him for a second before realization shines on his face. "Not really that much, Mr. O'Malley. Few quarters. Found a necklace on the lady's end-table."

"Put it back." Dutch snaps back as the boy opens the heavy oak door that led to a dimly lit bedroom.

"...'scuse me?"

"You heard me, boy. Now where's the safe?"

"Why?" Everett crosses his arms and stares Dutch straight in the eyes. "We're robbin' them, ain't we?"

"Yeah, and I would rather get out of this city without the sheriff on my hide. We take something out in the open, they're gonna know right away." Dutch crosses his arms as well, and leans over a bit to meet Everett's gaze. "Now you put that back and show me the safe, boy."

Everett rolls his eyes, and walks across the room. Taking the necklace from his pocket and slamming it on the endtable on the left side of the bed before starting for the closet. He mutters something under his breath.

"Up there." He points to the roof of the walk-in closet, where a hatch was closed. "Ladder comes down. The safe is in the wardrobe."

Dutch nods and reaches up for the hatch, pausing to turn back to Everett. "You stay down here, keep an eye on the door. Someone comes in, you shut the closet and get up here with me."

Everett takes a moment to respond. "Yessir."

The attic was almost a spare room, with how it was decorated. There was a burgundy armchair in the corner, where a book and candle sat. A fine carpet laid on the floor. And on the one wall, a large wardrobe with one door ever so slightly ajar.

Within it, on the bottom ledge sat a small, but heavy metal safe. It had been a while since he had been the one to pick a lock, and he didn't exactly want to just shove his knife into it and risk snapping off the mechanism completely. He didn't know how often they checked this thing. Didn't want it to be obvious they had been robbed. 

A few drawn out minutes, and the safe was swung open. Inside, no money sat. But there were two rings inlain with some sort of precious gem. And a few bonds to the Jackson printing company. He slips the items into his pockets, carefully closes the safe and wardrobe and makes his way down and out of the closet. 

Everett stood outside of the door to the bedroom, hands in his pockets and eyes carefully watching the hallway. "You done then, Sir?" 

"Yes, I've gotten what I came for." Dutch answers smoothly. "Show me out then, boy. I'm late for an appointment."

The boy smirks just a bit, and tips his hat. "Yessir."

* * *

"And here you are." Dutch says, handing the boy his share of the take. $100.

The boy flips through the bills silently, pauses for a long moment, and speaks. "Scuse me?"

Dutch turns back around from where he had moved to pack the rest into The Count's saddlebag. "That's your share."

"No it ain't." Everett answers, taking a few steps closer to the man. "You said the take were $800. I was told 25%. $200."

Dutch laughs an almost mocking laugh, bending a bit to get in the boy's face. "You never work with a gang before? Half is split with all the members of the job. The rest goes to the camp funds."

"I ain't never agreed to that." The boy crosses his arms firmly. "And as far as I see, you're the only 'member' a' your gang."

Dutch huffs a bit and smiles. "Don't matter if the gang is lacking a few members. The camp don't pay for itself. Rules are rules."

The boy looks like he's about to protest, but eventually rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "Whatever."

They both turn from each other, but quickly after, Dutch turns back and speaks. "Boy. I got an offer for ya."

Everett turns back to him.

"I'm working on heading further down south. Mexico." Dutch circles just a bit around the boy who turns to face him as he goes. "Looking to find my fortune."

The boy remains silent. Raises a brow, and looks much more skeptical than Dutch had anticipated.

"As you so kindly mentioned, I'm currently a gang of one." The man closes the distance between the two of them and holds a hand out for the other to shake. "You seem to know a bit for your age. And I'm looking to bolster my numbers."

Everett looks down at Dutch's hand, up to his face, and back down again before taking a step back. "No thanks. I came down here with intent on making my fortune. Not yers."

Dutch takes a moment to collect his thoughts. That had honestly been the polar opposite of what he expected. Not many a folk turned down a chance to work with him. 

But already, the boy was walking away calmly and confidently. Pocketing the money with one hand and checking his pocketwatch with the other. Dutch smirks just a bit. The boy was a leader. 

He'd have to keep an eye out, his next time in Mississippi. No doubt there'd be a new gang in charge here by then.


End file.
